The black, stagnant pond that is my life continues. Breakfast is the usual cornflake gulag. My mother is her usual scintillating self. She just sits there, smoking, throwing glances at me. She's weird. My dad died when I was 5, it's about time she got a boyfriend or something. She just sits around the house, or goes shopping, or whatever. How can she possibly expect to know what I'm going through when all she does is shop and watch TV? I'm beginning to think that I'll never meet anyone who will understand my pain. Except maybe Ryan. He'd understand. Huh, yeah, if he ever bothers to notice me, of course. Fucking men.

Mom stops me just as I'm about to leave for school. "What?" I say, "What is it now?" She just looks at me, then says "Do you hate me? What have I done wrong?" Christ she's pathetic. It's all I can do to stop myself from spitting in her face. "Do you have any idea what I'm going through?" I ask her. She looks confused. Of course she does. She doesn't understand, cause she has no fucking idea what my life is like, the agonising pain in which I live every day. "Well, I'd like to help, if I can," she says. I just shake my head in disgust, and walk off. Why did she even bring me into this world? I didn't ask to be born.

On the way to school, I consider suicide again. There's a big truck speeding down the road, I could just throw myself under it, boom, all my troubles are over. Decide to give it one more day, though.

First thing in the morning, I have an exam. I've only had two weeks to prepare for it, and with all the shit going on, trying to sort my head out, I haven't had a chance to do anything. I fail it. Big surprise. The teacher takes me to one side and says if I fail another one they'll have to talk to my parents. "My parents?" I say. "My father's dead, in case you didn't know. You could go talk to him if you like, do you have a necromancer on staff?" That didn't go down too well. Not that I give a shit about my father, I hardly even remember him. Besides, I have real problems to deal with, like my self-hate and depression. Wish Ryan had been there to hear my cool comeback, though.

I catch Ryan looking at me in the hallway. Man, I can't believe it. He's talking with his buddies and laughing. When I'm getting my stuff from my locker, he comes up to me. "Hey," he says. "Hey," I say. He looks at his buddies, then back at me. Then it happens. He asks me if I want to go to a party tonight. I'm so stunned I can't answer for a second. I manage to say "Yeah, sure, sounds cool." "Great, I'll meet you by the fountain at 8," he says, and strolls back to his buddies.

I spend the next hour in the toilets, freaking out. I'm going to a party with Ryan Taylor, the best looking boy in school. But I feel ugly, weird, and stupid. He's going to hate me, I'll make a fool of myself, and everyone will know how dumb I am. God, I hate myself sometimes.

Maybe if I kill myself before the party, it'll be okay. No, fuck that. Knowing my luck, I'd kill myself just before something great happens to me. Why is my life so full of pain? I'm so depressed.